Sunlight leaks through the canopy’s thin
sieve, flooding the white
marble courtyard. A silence constructed
from low rumbles: thin streams
of alto water pierce the pool’s
surface, large fountains nearby
supply an aerated bass. Trains 
screech below, and above,
the hmph hmph hmph
of a helicopter. Elephant ears jostle
softly in the breeze. 
A solitary dragonfly swoops low
over the pool, climbs high to 
nosedive again past hulking
obsidian forms. Tourists
amble from patch of shade to
patch of shade. If this were
a dream, these twin fountains
made from wet-poured bronze
would come alive,
raise their heads and gently tell me
which door holds the portal
that leads back to yesterday.
But time’s cruel surface remains unbent.
Peering down into the water’s
grey mirror, no one lurks
behind me but sky—